


Making It Right

by Rachel500



Series: Aftershocks [77]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Related, F/M, Gen, Resolved Sexual Tension, S4 Aftershocks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-01
Updated: 2008-06-01
Packaged: 2017-10-20 00:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/206833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel500/pseuds/Rachel500
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scenes to 2010.  Bonus Aftershock written for the Day of Indulgence ficathon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making It Right

_ 2010\. The Night Before They Sent the Message to the Past. _

The street was dark, illuminated only sporadically with an occasional street-lamp. Retired Colonel Samantha Carter was glad of the shadows that hid her pale face and red eyes. She shivered against a cold gust of wind and set her small overnight bag on the ground. She looked over to the Washington townhouse on the opposite side of the road. There was an amber light shining in a downstairs' window though it was muffled through heavy drapes. She just hoped it signalled that Janet Fraiser was awake. She knew Cassie was away as the young woman had returned to Abydos to continue working on an archaeological dig there before the ten year celebration ceremony of the Aschen alliance.

It was late – too late really to turn up on someone's doorstep and ask for sanctuary but that's what friends were for after all; to be a place to run to when life delivered a kick to the head. And Sam needed a friend after her husband's revelations earlier that evening.

She closed her eyes briefly as she breathed in sharply at the memory of Joseph Faxon admitting that he had known about the Aschen's sterilisation plans and, worse; that he had agreed to it. A part of her knew he hadn't meant to give the Aschen the opening they needed to destroy them; hadn't meant to sell Earth out. His shock had been real at the extent of the sterilisation, at the implications. But she had taken herself off to the spare room after their discussion – argument – whatever it was – asking for space. Joe, ever the considerate husband, had acquiesced.

Alone, all the times she had defended him to her team-mates, Teal'c, Daniel Jackson and more specifically, Jack O'Neill, had come back to taunt her. She had told them that Joe was one of the good guys; that he would tell her if there was any suspicion the Aschen weren't on the level. Her lips twisted bitterly at the guilt and regret that flooded her.

Her gaze fell to her wedding ring. She felt like a liar wearing it and she slipped it off, placing it in the pocket of her leather jacket. She'd felt the same as she had tried to sleep in the spare room surrounded by the furniture she and Joe had picked out with help of a perky interior designer. Everything around her had felt like it was a fabrication; that she had nothing but a marriage built on illusion; on what she had wanted to believe was the truth not what was. And, suddenly, she had needed to get out and leave the house and the illusion behind. Joe had been sleeping when she had checked on him. A bottle of scotch had stood open on the bedside table beside him; he'd evidently drunk himself to sleep.

She couldn't ever see herself forgiving him. Her marriage was over.

Sam sighed. She picked up the bag and crossed the street. She had already come to terms with the fact that she would erase her marriage in sending the message back through time, and in the aftermath of their discussion, she was grateful; it would only make it easier for her to do what needed to be done. But even before the revelations she remembered wondering why the concept of erasing their marriage didn't bother her as much as it should. Sam loved Joe but perhaps the painful truth had always been that she wasn't _in love_ with him but the idea of a loving husband and family.

It wasn't just her confrontation with Joe that had led to her seeking refuge. With everything that had happened in the past couple of days – the discovery of the Aschen's plan to conquer Earth, their own plan to send a message back in time, getting Jack's help...there hadn't been any time for Sam to think about her own personal discovery; her inability to have children. Her hand slid over her belly.

She needed a shoulder to grieve on. It should have been Joe but given everything else she couldn't bear the idea of him trying to comfort her.

She blamed him.

Maybe it was irrational but she blamed him. He'd agreed to let the Aschen sterilise their world; to take away her fertility. And maybe there was a sneaking suspicion that if she hadn't discovered the Aschen's plans and the Aschen doctors had eventually told her about her infertility that Joe would eventually have left her anyway. He wanted children and she knew he had been increasingly frustrated at the lack of success; at her failure to give him a child and complete the perfect image they'd constructed. Maybe, Sam considered tiredly, the cracks had already been in the foundations of their marriage; she'd just ignored them in favour of the illusion of happiness.

The heavy wooden door was painted a conservative green; a polished brass knocker adorned it. There was an electronic chime secreted by the doorframe though and Sam had visited enough times to know about it. She pressed it firmly. Maybe an hour of a sympathetic ear, a good cry, some ice-cream and a bottle of scotch of her own would help her sleep, Sam mused.

The door swung open and Sam froze.

Jack O'Neill stared back at her, a beer dangling from his free hand, the other on the door. His brown eyes showed his own shock before they became veiled. He leaned insouciantly on the jamb. 'Carter. What brings you here?'

'I thought...' Sam took a deep breath and gathered her composure. 'I thought you were staying with Daniel.' Their former team-mate kept an apartment in Washington even though he was mostly off-world on Abydos.

'Janet's with him.' Jack said bluntly.

'Oh.' Sam felt the blush sweep over her neck and face. She knew about Daniel and Janet in the abstract – knew that they had dated for a while a few years before and had separated amicably; a sharp contrast to how things had ended between herself and Jack. The events of the past few days had presumably brought Daniel and Janet back together again or maybe they were seeking one last night of comfort – who was she to judge if they were?

She reassessed her plans. Clearly Janet had given Jack her house; Sam couldn't stay there given their history. They'd worked together OK earlier that day but she probably shouldn't push her luck, she mused. 'I'll find a motel.'

'Carter.' Her name on his lips stopped her as she took a step away.

Jack stood back, inviting her inside with a sweeping gesture. 'It's late.' He said briskly as though that was the only reason for not turning her away.

Sam hesitated momentarily before she ignored the warning bells clamouring in her ears and entered the house. She brushed by him and breathed in the scent of him; the soap he always used, the indefinable something that was Jack. She felt her belly flip-flop.

She dumped her bag by the staircase and headed for the den. There was some game playing on the entertainment unit in the corner; the sound muted. The small lamp she had noted outside was set on a side-table in front of the window. The room was warm and cosy; a home. She thought of her own house with its carefully arranged furniture and shuddered. She walked over to the mantle-piece and picked up a picture of herself and Cassie. It had been taken on her wedding day; she was in her dress, Cassie in her bridesmaid's outfit. She rubbed the back of her neck and set the frame back down.

'I take it things didn't go well.' Jack's voice just behind her startled her.

Sam looked at him sharply.

His expression was guarded. It hurt her more than it should that it was. But then she'd hurt him and badly when she hadn't believed him about the Aschen; when she'd married Joe. It was no more than she deserved, Sam mused sadly. But it hurt to know he felt he needed to be guarded around her; that she'd lost the openness they'd once enjoyed.

'Do we need a plan B for getting the GDO?' Jack prompted when she stayed silent.

The mission, Sam reminded herself. Jack was worried about the mission; not her. 'No.' She shook her head. 'Joe's agreed to get it.'

'And you're here because...'

'He knew.' Sam blurted out.

Jack didn't bother pretending surprise.

'But you already knew that.' Sam realised. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from him.

'He's too close to the Aschen not to have known some of it.' Jack said quietly.

Jack had always been brilliant at strategy; at examining all the angles and knowing where the weak points were, Sam thought regretfully. She swallowed past the lump in her throat to tell him the rest.

'They agreed to a thirty per cent sterilisation.' She said bitterly. 'Apparently, it was the price for the Aschen signing up to support us in the war against the Goa'uld.' She looked back at him. 'He was genuinely shocked at the rest of it.' It was hard to keep the defensiveness out of her voice; she had trusted Joe – was trusting him to get the GDO although they were fairly choice-less in that.

Jack lifted the beer bottle. 'Is that supposed to make a difference?'

'It does to me.' Sam regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

Jack's expression closed up even further. 'So why are you here?'

The terse words made her flinch. She debated what to say. Eventually, she withdrew her wedding ring from her pocket and set it on the mantle-piece in front of the smiling picture of her and Cassie.

Jack's expression didn't alter as he stared at the ring and realised what it was, what it meant that it was off her finger; the deep lines that gave his face such character didn't ease; his jaw remained tensed. He took a sip of his beer before his eyes met hers; hard and dark and angry.

'That supposed to be some kind of green light, Carter?' Jack asked caustically. 'You looking to go out with a bang like Daniel and Janet?'

The crudeness of his words; the harsh, unsympathetic tone...both were knock-out jabs that took away her breath and drained the colour from her cheeks before her anger flared in response. Her fingers curled into fists. She glared at him. 'Go to hell, Jack.'

She stormed out, only just remembering to grab her bag before she headed for Cassie's room. It had its own small bathroom and the bed was always made up in case she arrived home unexpectedly.

Sam closed the door and sank onto the narrow single bed with a grateful sigh. Alone in the dark, tears stung the back of her eyes; clogged up her nose and throat. She blinked them back hard. Damn it. She had done enough crying over Jack O'Neill, Sam thought angrily. She breathed; fast, shallow breaths until the threat of tears subsided. She moved stiffly; shedding her clothes, paying a visit to the bathroom, going through her night-time routine for a second time before crawling between the cold sheets.

She could make out the faint sounds from downstairs as Jack shut everything down, closed the den door and made his way up the stairs. The creak of floorboards outside her room had her tensing sharply but he continued down the hall and she heard the dull thud of a door closing.

Sam let out a slow breath. She curled up, burying her face in the pillow. How were they meant to work together when it was clear he couldn't stand her, couldn't stand being around her? A sharp pain arrowed through her chest and she placed a hand over her breastbone as though to soothe it. She'd been foolish for even thinking that she'd had anything to do with his decision to help them. He was simply doing what needed to be done; like always. Duty and honour, first.

Anger flared again.

 _He'd_ been the one who'd pushed her away after their one and only night together because she hadn't been able to agree with his position on the Aschen. He'd been the one to deny them a chance of being together yet she was always the bad guy. She was sick of it. What was she supposed to have done when Jack had made it clear he didn't want to be with her?

Not marrying Joe would have been a start, a caustic voice in her head whispered. Hell, just like she'd told Jack about her infertility before she'd told Joe, she'd even told Jack she was marrying Joe before she'd told Joe; what did that tell her? That she'd wanted Jack to tell her to stop; to change her mind. And the truth was she knew he would have done if she had changed hers; if she had believed in him.

Only it was too late. All her mistakes piled up in one huge mess that she couldn't see past. It didn't matter if she erased them; she'd made them and for the next few hours until the message was safely delivered to the past, she would have to live with them.

She swiped at the tear leaking out from her eye. And suddenly, the reality of everything she had lost – Jack, her marriage, her dream of a child – everything crashed down on her like a wave pulling her under. She turned her face into the pillow as the first sob was wrenched from her.

o-O-o

Jack sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed a thumb over the ring of gold he held. Carter's wedding ring. He didn't know why he'd been driven to pick it up. Or maybe he did; he just didn't want to admit to it.

She would need it for appearances if nothing else the following day; he was just keeping it safe. He pulled a face, unable to believe his own story.

He set it down on the bedside table, the tip of his finger lingering in the centre before he pulled it back with a grimace. He rubbed his hands briskly over his face as though to rub away the surging mix of emotions. When he'd seen her place it on the mantel...

Damn.

How did Carter still have the power to make him _want_ her so much? To make him _hope_ so much that a "them" was still possible? Especially after she'd just kicked him in the gut with her stated trust in Faxon despite everything; especially since they'd literally run out of time.

Jack flushed. He'd been helpless against both emotions in the moment she'd placed the ring down; want, hope, and a memory of their one night together with him buried inside her and her shattering around him.

And hard on the heels of that, the memory of her driving away the next day.

It had been that which had prompted his cruel words; _'You want to go out with a bang like Daniel and Janet?'_

He winced as guilt flickered sharply and sent his gut churning.

She'd looked so hurt; wounded.

He was human enough that he'd had a moment's satisfaction at that. He'd wanted to hurt her; wanted to punish her, drive her away. It was the only thing that had kept him from yanking her into his arms and kissing the hell out of her. His lips twisted. She probably would have punched him if he had.

As it was he figured he was lucky she hadn't punched him anyway. She'd let him off lightly with the muttered instruction to go to hell and stalking out. He'd seen her hands curl into fists and he was all too aware that she could use them.

Jack shoved a hand through his short grey hair. All they seemed to do was hurt each other. His eyes flickered back to the ring as he got to his feet and started to strip.

Her marriage was over.

He knew what the ring meant to Carter; it was a symbol of her vows, her commitment. For her to have taken it off...

And there it was again; the strange mix of want and hope and need. It had been the same when he'd rounded the corner of his cabin and seen her, if he was honest.

Jack flung his t-shirt across the room. He'd dreamed of it before; Carter turning up at the cabin, telling him she knew he was right, that she was wrong, begging forgiveness. He had thought for one brief moment when he'd laid eyes on her that the rest of the day had been some vivid dream and he was still asleep. Not that the reunion had gone exactly the way he'd rehearsed a million times in his head with them ending up in bed, wrapped around each other.

His lips firmed.

And just because Sam had finally figured it out, it didn't mean he had to roll over at her feet like a puppy and ask for a belly-rub.

He paused in unbuttoning his pants. Of course, the truth was he'd all but pushed her into Faxon's arms when he'd sent her away years before. He pushed his jeans off; tossed them into the corner with his shirt. He sat back down on the edge of the bed and shoved his socks off his feet.

She'd wanted to be with him initially; not Faxon. The memory of her lips pressed against his; the weight of her body in his arms teased at him. He'd been the one to push her about the Aschen. That Sam hadn't been prepared to believe him; that she'd shot his concerns down and told him there was no proof, no evidence; that she hadn't accepted that his instincts were right – he'd been hurt.

Even if he'd understood on one level that she was right; that there was nothing but his gut. Even if he understood that she hadn't wanted to believe him because it would mean another war, and more loss, and that she'd already lost her father and couldn't face losing someone else she loved.

No.

He might have understood but it had hurt like hell. He'd known it was a schism they couldn't bridge. So had she when he'd pointed it out. If they'd tried to stay together after that one night they'd shared, they would have only ended up where they were; only maybe the damage would have been even greater; the hurt worse.

He snorted.

He wasn't sure that was possible but he was certain that he would definitely have made her unhappy and that was a large part of why he'd let her go. He was damaged by too many battles in the war including one long trip to Ba'al's torture chamber. Sam deserved better. Despite his wounded pride at her marrying Joe, he'd always believed Sam had deserved a chance at happiness, at getting everything she wanted. He grimaced as he remembered her pained confession that she couldn't have children.

Jack snapped the light off and stretched out on top of the blankets, one arm flung carelessly above his head. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, the unfamiliar room casting shadows into odd unfamiliar places. He yearned for the cabin; for his own bedroom.

His free hand strayed to his belly and absently stroked across his taut abs, his fingers catching at the elastic edge of his boxers. He'd kept himself in shape, almost as though he'd known the time would come when he'd be needed.

 _Time._

It was a crazy idea trying to erase the timeline. But then most of their ideas to save themselves had been crazy. And he believed in Carter; believed in her ability to make the crazy idea real. They'd send a note back in time and they'd stop their timeline from happening; stop the Aschen gaining a foothold on Earth.

Jack sighed softly. He wasn't so altruistic that it hadn't occurred to him that there was another, much more selfish, upside. Sure, they were saving the future of humanity and that was important and the fundamental reason why he was there but it didn't hurt to know that in erasing the timeline, he'd effectively wipe out his estrangement from Carter; Carter's marriage to Faxon. Wipe out other things that he'd rather hadn't happened too like his sojourn with Ba'al.

He closed his eyes. If they were going to make the plan work, he needed rest.

A sound filtered through the darkness and his eyes snapped back open. His heart pounded unevenly in his chest.

Was that...?

He shifted; pressing back into the bed and dismissing his half-formed thought.

He closed his eyes again.

An aching sob drifted through the wall. He opened his eyes slowly. That hadn't been his imagination. It was Carter.

Crying.

Jack wiped a hand over his face as he listened intently. She was trying to mask the sobs; that was clear. Some he caught, some he didn't. Bile rose up his gullet and he sat up quickly at the sensation of nausea. He'd done that. Made her cry.

He got to his feet but he didn't move.

It wasn't his place to comfort her.

But it was his fault.

He'd lashed out to protect himself and he'd purposefully hurt her. The way she'd lost all colour in her face shot into his head. For a second, before he'd seen her anger ignite, he'd thought she was going to faint.

She'd come to Janet's seeking...what? Refuge in the wake of finding out her husband had collaborated and the knowledge that her marriage was over? A friend to confide her pain in? She was hurting over not being able to have a kid; he'd seen that at the cabin. And what had he done? Kicked her when she was down.

Another sob echoed through the wall.

Damn it, Jack thought, suddenly moving. He marched across the deep pile carpet, yanked the door open and headed down the corridor to Cassie's room. He didn't bother knocking; he just entered without ceremony.

Sam struggled into a sitting position in the bed. He could see the shock and dismay in her damp eyes as he crossed the room.

'What are you...' She managed before he simply sat on the bed and hauled her into his arms.

She resisted; pushing away from him but she was hampered in her efforts as she was partly trapped by the bedclothes. She hiccupped as she continued to cry, unable to stop her tears. 'Let me go.'

Tried that already, he thought almost angrily. He managed to get her onto his lap, her body stiff against his.

'Don't.' Sam begged, her hand pushing at his chest.

'Carter.' Her name tore out of him and suddenly, she ceased trying to get away from him. She crumpled instead; burying her face in his shoulder as her body curled up; her hands covering her face as though she was ashamed. She didn't make a sound but he felt her body shake with each sob; her hot tears soak into his skin.

Jack's hold softened. He cradled her head, his fingers stroking through her soft, spiky hair. His other hand moved to her waist and her back; rubbing soothingly.

Eventually, he felt her tears subside; the shaking easing into slight shudders before she stilled completely. She shifted against him and he loosened his hold as she pulled away. She sat on the bed beside him and he was all too suddenly aware of his lack of clothing; of hers. The simple tank and panties did nothing to hide the curves of her body.

Sam plucked a tissue from a box on the bedside table and scrubbed at her face; she blew her nose. 'I didn't mean for you to hear me.' The rough whisper was almost inaudible.

She hadn't wanted him to see how much he'd hurt her. The apology for his words in the den earlier stuck in his throat.

The silence stretched.

'I should have believed you about the Aschen.' Sam said quietly. She reached out toward him but her hand dropped short of his arm as though she was unsure her touch would be welcome.

Her apology made him flinch. Her self-recrimination stirred his own. He'd let her carry the blame for a long time; it had been easier that way to convince himself it was for the best. And maybe she hadn't believed him but he had let her go; hadn't fought for her. Maybe the truth was that he'd been too scared he couldn't make her happy.

He sighed heavily. 'I might have, maybe, screwed up too, Carter.'

They looked at each other; partially obscured by darkness and shadows; partly illuminated by the light from outside that filtered through the curtains.

Jack wasn't sure who moved first.

His hands cupped her face gently as her lips parted beneath his; he sank into the kiss. It wasn't enough. The memory of their previous time together shuddered through him again as he reacquainted himself with her taste.

He was barely aware of nudging her to lie down, of stretching out over her as his hands greedily swept down over her body; sliding beneath her top. She arched upwards in pleasure as he bent his head and kissed one mound through the material, dampening the cloth and making her writhe against him.

He could barely catch his breath as her hands stroked down his back and clutched at him. He pressed his hips against hers, their underwear the only barrier between them...and she stiffened underneath him, freezing.

Jack raised his head and looked at her. Her lips were bruised with passion; her breaths choppy and shallow. Her eyes were partially dilated with arousal but they held both apology and regret.

He rolled off her and almost off the narrow bed. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, breathing hard as though he'd run a marathon and willing his body to calm down. She lay beside him in a similar position.

'I want to.' Sam whispered beside him. 'I _really_ want to but I, uh...'

'You're married.' Jack said. The words were loud in the stillness of the bedroom.

Sam sighed. 'It's over. I know it's over. And tomorrow...today...we're going to make it non-existent but I just...'

'It's OK, Carter.' Jack turned his head, unsurprised to find her looking sceptically back at him. He gave her a crooked half-smile. 'Well, not OK but...' he reached for her left hand and rubbed the place where her wedding band had been, 'I understand.'

Her expression eased. 'I don't think I could face Joe if we...'

'I know.' Jack interlinked their fingers.

'And we need him.' Sam continued.

'Yes.' Jack admitted unwillingly. 'We do.' He gave a regretful sigh and made to let go of her hand, to push up from the bed and return to his own room.

She held onto him, her fingers tightening around his. 'Stay? Just...stay.' Her eyes searched his. 'Please, Jack?'

He wanted to say no but the hope in her face had him pausing. He pulled a face seeking cover behind his usual humour. 'I'm not sure you can resist me.'

She smiled brightly; it lip up her face and made his heart ache. 'I'll try.' She joked back.

He directed her to move under the covers and she lifted them for him but he shook his head. He spooned up behind her instead on top of the blankets. He rested his uppermost arm on her hip and wasn't surprised when she gently took his hand and drew it around her, holding his hand against the naked, soft skin of her belly under the covers.

She was quiet for so long that he thought she'd slipped into sleep but she gave a small sigh and tightened her hold on his hand.

'I wanted a child so badly.' She whispered.

He inched closer as though he could physically absorb her pain through his skin.

'Would it have mattered to you?' She asked suddenly. 'If things had been different and we'd...if I couldn't...'

Jack felt his throat close up momentarily. 'No.' He replied softly. It would never have mattered to him whether she could have children or not; all he had wanted was her. Not to mention the idea of children scared the hell out of him after what had happened with Charlie. He'd never been sure that he could face even the remote possibility of losing another child. Another reason why he'd let her go.

He debated with himself briefly before he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her shoulder. 'Get some sleep, Carter.'

Jack felt the rest of the tension seep out of her body and she snuggled against him as she relaxed. He closed his eyes and let himself drift.

He woke up first.

The sunlight streamed across the room, brightening the corners. He watched Sam sleeping for a while, committing to memory the curve of her cheek, the soft gold of her hair. He forced himself off the bed and down the hall. He showered, shaved and dressed. He left his small pack of belongings in the guest room, only taking downstairs what he needed for the day.

Sam was up and in Janet's kitchen. She had dressed in a smart black suit, crisp white blouse. She looked beautiful. He accepted the mug of coffee she handed him. He sipped it, grateful for the hit of caffeine.

'Thank you.' She said nervously.

Jack looked at her bemused.

'For staying with me last night.' Sam said. She smiled tremulously. 'Although you know it would have been nice to have woken up with you.'

Jack avoided her eyes. He'd left her that morning for the same reason he'd left her the morning after the night they had shared; because he wasn't sure he could let her go if he hadn't.

'You want some breakfast?' Sam asked, regaining his attention.

'Daniel and Janet suggested a place down the block to meet.' Jack replied, glancing over at her.

Sam nodded. 'I'll get my things.'

'Sam.' Jack caught her hand as she went to move past. He reached into his jeans' pocket with his free hand. 'You need to wear this.' His fingers held up the band of gold he'd taken from the mantel-piece the night before.

Her disgust flashed over her delicate features.

'You said it yourself last night.' Jack replied evenly. 'We need him.' His thumb stroked over her hand again and her naked ring finger. 'As much as I hate to say this, Carter, he needs to believe there's still a chance with you.' He continued. 'If he thinks he's lost you, he doesn't have anything to lose by screwing up the plan.' Especially if Faxon believed he'd lost Sam to Jack.

Sam's thumb stroked over his knuckles and he could almost hear her thinking over his words. She sighed. 'It won't matter if he doesn't get the GDO.'

'He'll get it.' Jack said confidently. 'He'll want to make it up to you.'

Faxon had always fought for Sam; maybe that was why he had won her in the end. Jack would bet money that it was the reason why Faxon hadn't told Carter about the Aschen's demand for sterilisation in the first place; Faxon had to have known that if he had told her, Sam would have had reason to believe Jack's suspicions. He wondered if Carter had worked that part of it out yet.

Sam's fingers tightened around his. 'There's nothing he could do that would make up for what he did.'

Jack sighed. 'Isn't the point of today to make this all kind of moot?'

He could see her struggle with the decision as she looked away from him. He knew she knew he was right.

'I don't want to wear it.' Sam said clearly. 'I just...' she lifted her eyes back to him, 'it's like saying I'm still with him.' A flush spread over her cheeks.

'You might wear his ring but you'll make your own decisions. I know that.' Jack had always known that whoever's ring she wore, Carter didn't belong to anyone but Carter. It was something he figured Joe had never worked out.

Sam scanned his face intently. She nodded briskly and Jack slid the ring into position on her finger. He raised his eyes to meet hers. He smiled sadly at her evident regret. Maybe they'd do it right next time and it would be his ring on her finger. If they somehow managed to send the message...

'We are going to change time.' Sam said firmly as though she'd read his mind.

Jack lifted his scarred eyebrow. 'No second thoughts?'

Sam shook her head. 'You?'

He tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. 'I've decided against the dog.'

She laughed and smiled at him; it was the way she'd used to smile at him before the Aschen, before it all went to hell. Flirty and sexy with a hint of devil-may-care that he adored. Somehow the surge of want and hope that it evoked didn't hurt anymore.

He jerked his head toward the door. 'Shall we?'

Sam squeezed his hand in agreement.

They walked out to face their future and fix their past together.

fin.


End file.
